


Playing with God

by viceroyvonmutini



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Oh Dear, im so sorry, it wasn't meant to be this way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3329588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceroyvonmutini/pseuds/viceroyvonmutini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn't how it was supposed to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing with God

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this listening to Hozier-Take Me To Church and that was a mistake because this was meant to be a small drabble but it turned into a monster. I'm so sorry.  
> Sort of AU. Set pre-Root/Machine, Pre-Root kidnaps Harold and Shaw still works for Control.

She knew it was dangerous, but she wasn’t going to stop.

This game they played, it was too fun to give up no matter how much her brain screamed danger. She’d always loved danger and she’d never been rational.

She fought, oh she always fought, and sometimes she didn’t give in: left without another word, ignoring the expectant look shot her way in a busy crowd. But she gave in more times than she’d like to admit.

It shouldn’t work. It couldn’t work. She knew this, in fact she often protested as much.

_‘No more’ growled Shaw_

_Caroline smirked at the empty statement._

_‘Whatever you say Shaw.’_

But she kept coming back. Kept it going. She drowned in the lies, willingly took them; took what she could and graciously accepted what she was given.

It should never have happened. She was a number. Related to a number. While not a threat to national security she was far from innocent. Shaw questioned her to get a lead innocently enough before the tables were turned, and _her_ questioning involved a lot more creative interpretation.

Shaw knew. Even though she wasn’t yet a number Shaw knew she was investigating Northern Lights: knew something. She gathered as much from the extensive torture session she’d been exposed to at the hands of the woman. But Shaw never questioned what she did. What she wanted.

She found Shaw again. _She_ pursued Shaw. But Shaw kept coming back. A glimpse across a crowded courtyard tailing her through dark alleys, following the trail gun drawn, leading into a dirty hotel room a little east of Berlin city center.

_‘Shaw, is that anyway to great an old friend? We had fun last time didn’t we?’_

_‘Kelly Dyson….’_

_‘It’s Augusta now. Augusta King.’_

_‘Who the fuck are you?’_

_‘Does it matter?’_   _Slowly advancing. Shaw took a reflexive step back but she kept coming._

_‘We’re having fun aren’t we? We had fun. So much so that I wanted to thank you for a good time.’_

_‘That never happened. You tortured me.’_

_‘And you liked it. Besides, I made it better after didn’t I?’_

_Augusta had her pressed against the wall with just her body._

_‘Who the fuck are you?’_

_‘Someone who likes a challenge.’_

_Augusta was taller than her, head turned down blocking out the light of the room as she pinned Shaw to the wall. Shaw could think of at least 8 ways she could incapacitate the woman without the use of her gun. But she didn’t move. Instead glared defiantly._

_‘The question is,’ she leant in by Shaw’s ear, ‘Sameen’_

_Shaw’s jaw tightened as Augusta pulled away._

_‘Who do you want me to be?’_

It became a semi-regular occurrence. One Shaw protested but did nothing to stop. She couldn’t stop coming back, staying longer: giving in. Diane Von Neumann bought her take out dinner, Charlene Babbage took her out for steak; Jessica Keyes gave her a car and told her to drive.

Shaw denied everything. She could stop when she chose. But she feared she was losing control. The woman with many names held her interest. Held her captive.

She looked forward to their meetings, their time together.

They were a dangerous pair, Shaw had figured that much out: the woman knew how to handle herself, wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty (but preferred to keep a distance) and was good with computers. They had killed. Both of them had. Two dark shadows hiding form the moral light.

_‘How many?’ Shaw asked through a mouth of Chow Mein. Ada looked up from her screen in question._

_‘How many have you killed?’_

_She looked thoughtful for a second._

_‘Too many.’_

_Shaw grunted._

_‘Does it bother you?’_

_‘No. I’m not unaffected but…I chose this. Why should they live? We’re just…Bad Code.’_

_Shaw scoffed, and Ada raised an eyebrow in question._

_‘I’ve never been described as Bad Code before. Computer freak.’_

_Ada smiled slightly but it didn’t fill her face. She studied Shaw eating with vague detachment._

_‘Not you; you’re…not Bad Code.’_

_The way she said that simple phrase made Shaw stop eating to take in the woman before her. The woman she knew nothing of but who knew everything of her. The woman, she found herself thinking, she would kill for if she asked it of her. The woman who knew her sins, knew it all, but looked at her like she was her absolution._

_‘I don’t think you’re Bad Code either.’_

_Shaw went back to devouring her meal with violent concentration. Ada watched enraptured: in wonder. She looked down at her screen, midway through hacking NSA sources, to hide a smile. She closed her laptop._

_‘Root.’_

_‘Hm?’_

_‘Root. People call me Root.’_

Shaw would watch Root work. Root knew but never said a word. One or two times Shaw helped without Root’s knowledge, taking out perceived threats when it got just a little too close for comfort. But Root knew. She just knew. Her guardian angel: lethal angel.

Shaw never mentioned it. Root never brought it up.

One or two times Root came up on her radar on the job. She didn’t think about the possibility of choosing. Something told her she wouldn’t like what she would find.

_‘Stop it.’_

_They were lying in bed. Five star hotel courtesy of Root’s latest job. Root turned to face Shaw who lay on her back staring at the blank ceiling. They never hugged or cuddled but Root lay close enough for her hair to tickle Shaw’s arm._

_‘Stop what?’ Did she fear the answer? She wouldn’t let herself._

_‘You’re appearing more frequently. I see your handy work. It’s not long before your number comes up.’_

_Shaw knew Root understood what she meant, knew Root knew enough to know the consequence of that._

_Root chuckled softly, curling up her legs to seek warmth as she pulled the duvet higher._

_‘Someone might think you cared.’_

_‘Whatever you’re doing, stop.’_

_‘You don’t know?’_

_‘I know enough to not want to know. To know that knowing will get me killed.’ Shaw turned to face Root._

_‘They’ll find you.’_

_They locked eyes. Shaw found everything she didn’t want to find in Root’s insistent stare: trust. It scared her. Scared her to death. Scared her more than being shot by her employer for knowing a little too much about it all. But she couldn’t move away and she didn’t know why. It was a game. It was just a game, but Root held her with more power than she had over her own self._

_Root looked at her like redemption; Shaw looked at her like devotion._

_‘Will you find me?’ whispered Root tentatively._

_Shaw couldn’t answer. Couldn’t look her in the eyes and answer what she wanted. Shaw could never love Root, but Root could love Shaw._

_She stood up abruptly and began to pull on her scattered clothing._

_‘I don’t know.’_

_Root sat up under the covers, watching._

_‘Shaw.’_

_‘Don’t. I can’t…I don’t know what you want from me!’ she spun round all fury and fire because anger fueled her, kept her safe. Felt safe. And she didn’t understand._

_Root didn’t flinch._

_‘Nothing, Sameen; I want everything you are. You haven’t given me anything. I have taken it.’_

_‘How?’_

_Root’s laugh was hollow._

_‘I don’t know. It was a game. Fun.’_

_‘A game.’_

_‘But…I kept giving Shaw. And you gave me…you, in return. And I took it. Gladly took it.’_

_‘I…’_

_Root stood up and padded over to where she stood. They watched each other and Root lifted her hand to touch Shaw’s face but she stepped back and Root’s hand dropped._

_‘I want nothing from you. I want everything.’_

_‘That doesn’t make sense.’_

_‘I know.’_

_Root backed away and clambered back into bed, shrouding herself in the plain white sheets as she sat staring at the threads, fingers restless. Fingers always restless._

_‘I can’t stop Sameen.’_

_‘Root…’_

_‘And I accept that.’_

_‘You can’t…’_

_‘I can!’ Root snapped her head up to look at Shaw studying her, her eyes brimming with defiance and…loss. Acceptance._

_‘It’s your choice Sameen. It has to be your choice. I accept everything.’ She lowered her voice once more._

_‘I always have.’_

_Shaw stood rigid and stiff, not prepared to move. Root reached for her computer on the floor instinctively and began typing, the picture of calm as she typed quicker and faster and with more fury than she ever had just to distract her mind as it struggled to keep up with her fingers. Shaw ground her jaw, clenched her fists. Eventually she headed for the door._

_‘Sameen.’_

_Shaw stopped before the door._

_‘Samantha.’_

_Shaw turned around._

_‘My name: Samantha Groves. But I don’t…’_

_Something about the look in her face as her eyes caught Shaw’s made Shaw stop. Made Shaw think._

_‘Root.’_

_Shaw left._

_Root smiled at the empty room, tears finally spilling over._

Shaw never backed away from anything: she dove in head first to any and all assignment. But Samantha Groves came up and Shaw stopped. She paid no attention to anything but that number, reading the almost empty file like it was her lifeline, like it was her religious text.

Shaw knew she was capable, that it would take months to find her. Years if she was half as good as Shaw knew her to be, but they would find her eventually.

They found her a few weeks after her number had appeared and it was almost too easy, like she’d led them to this abandoned warehouse on purpose. Shaw knew her well enough to spot the trap when she saw it, but she let the team go in without her anyway: she told herself she was testing them. Their abilities; if they could match up to Root’s.

She couldn’t help her smirk as the warehouse blew taking most of the squad with it.

She wasn’t meant to smirk.

Amateurs.

Cole, her and about five other operatives traced the remote signal through several servers going through more than a few continents to a singular IP address, cross-referencing it with recent bank transfers to locate a beach house in Florida.

With 6 guns pointed at Root’s head, the choice was not something Shaw would back down from, though Shaw never doubted Root had an escape.

She made it with a total of two seconds thought. There was no big revelation, no profound thoughts, no long drawn out discussion over gun barrels.

She shot her comrades without a second thought and said goodbye to Cole over comms, before crushing the device and any other methods of tracking (Root assured her laptop was clear.)

They didn’t talk until they were safely on the speedboat, the escape route Root had planned, and far off the mainland.

‘What made you?’ questioned Root, lounging on the sofa wind flying in her face while Shaw stood at the wheel. Shaw grunted.

‘No way would you have been that sloppy if you didn’t want to be found.’

Root smirked.

‘Such faith in my abilities.’

‘I wasn’t going to let you get yourself killed before you completed your mission. And not for some stupid reason either, like being purposely sloppy so I’d find you and it’d end in a dramatic confrontation with one or both of us dead. You’ve been watching too many films.’

Root had crept up behind her and now snaked her arms around Shaw’s waist. Shaw stiffened. Root rested her head on her shoulder awkwardly.

‘Thank you’ she whispered into Shaw’s ear, holding onto her like she was her only tether. Her lifeline. Shaw grunted.

‘Doesn’t mean you can hug me.’

She let out pure laughter as she stood back up straight looking over Shaw’s shoulder.

‘Okay Sameen.’

The tight grip still scared her. The adoration in her eyes terrified her. But the worship Shaw gave in her own way had always been enough for Root: that particular brand of devotion that only she could deliver.

So Shaw stayed, trusting in that, wondering where this game would take her next.


End file.
